


Soho Danger Noodle and the Shop Of Other Men's Books

by Kat_Rowe



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bookshop Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Hates the 14th Century (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Fluff and Humor, Gen, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Snake Crowley (Good Omens), but some rats were terrified, even though the fic takes place in the 19th century, he REALLY hates the 14th century for a lot of reasons, no animals were harmed, the Death of Rats makes a cameo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24844333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Rowe/pseuds/Kat_Rowe
Summary: Sometimes being a snake comes in damned handy: passing unseen, breaking and entering, terrorizing small mammals, remaining unrecognized, keeping angels happy.Really, the possibilities are endless...(Or: That One Where Crowley Uses His Demonic Powers For Nothing But Good)(Or: That One Which Is Somehow Not Quite As Random As the Title Suggests)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 111





	Soho Danger Noodle and the Shop Of Other Men's Books

**Author's Note:**

> I love rats. I love them so much. My only regret regarding interspecies relations is that antibiotics didn't come down the pike several centuries earlier. And it wasn't the poor rats, it was the FLEAS!!! 
> 
> Although, rats were destructive little PESTS in and before the 1800s. And, Crowley, between having been a snake and having lived through Europe's Dark Ages, probably doesn't bear them quite the same affection I do.
> 
> So have a fic where Crowley is become Nope Rope Destroyer of Worlds (only not). I'm off to spend the rest of the afternoon looking at snake memes instead of editing my next fic. Enjoy.
> 
> Many, many thanks to Zorianne for the beta work <3 Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own.

Aziraphale had discovered a lovely cafe near his new bookshop and, predictably, had invited Crowley to try it out with him. They’d lingered quite late over dessert. Or, more accurately, Aziraphale had lingered over _his_ dessert while Crowley finished off the rest of the wine. 

Crowley had sobered himself up before they left, because walking through the streets of London while drunk was just asking for some kind of hideous foot infection. It said a lot about a city when one of the cleanest things on the streets came out of the back end of its countless horses. And that was in affluent districts like Soho and Mayfair. There were parts of London that the fastidious Aziraphale literally wouldn’t set foot in, levitating a few inches over the muck despite the possibility that a human might see him at it.

But London was at the center of the world now, the way Rome had been back in the day: the capital city of a globe-spanning Empire. Whether they liked it or not, this was where the action was, and therefore where they had to be. Although, to be fair, Crowley quite enjoyed London. And he was relatively certain the angel was fond of it as well, given how regularly he went into raptures over the city’s museums, restaurants, and shows.

“Thanks for the meal, angel,” he said as they walked the last few steps towards the bookshop. “My treat next time.”

Reaching into his pocket, Aziraphale made a noncommittal sound in answer, as he did when he wasn’t in the mood to admit that, yes, of course they would meet again soon. “Hmm,” he added after a moment, frowning and reaching into his other pocket. 

“Problem?” Crowley asked, slouching against the wall and watching the angel fumble.

“I can’t seem to find my keys,” he answered, frowning and continuing to search his pockets. 

“Didn’t leave them at the restaurant, did you?”

He shook his head, frown deepening. “Oh, dear, I was in such a hurry earlier. I think I left them inside the shop.”

“Oh, as long as you know where they are. Just miracle the door open.” 

“I can’t,” the angel sighed, looking defeated. 

“Don’t tell me they’ve reprimanded you again for doing too many miracles?” Crowley groaned, rolling his eyes. “Doing miracles is the whole _point_ of them having you here. Eh, I’ll do it,” he offered, snapping his fingers and frowning when the door failed to swing open. “Ayrg?”

“Don’t bother,” Aziraphale sighed. Shaking his head, he explained, “It’s been warded.”

“Warded?” he repeated. “It can’t be! I go inside all the time without any problem.” 

“It’s not warded against demons. I mean, not specifically,” the angel explained, squirming and looking away as Crowley tried to meet his eye. “Obviously I didn’t want to have to raise and lower several wards every time you dropped by.”

“Suppose not. So what’s it warded against, then?”

“Any supernatural or ethereal attempts at entry. Anyone can enter or leave through the doors, but no one can teleport in and the locks will only come open by conventional means.”

 _“Ethereal?”_ Crowley repeated, raising an eyebrow. “It keeps _angels_ out, too?”

“Yes, well, one likes some warning when one’s Supervisor is about to drop by,” Aziraphale pointed out, fidgeting. 

The demon laughed at that, grinning. “No surprise inspections that way. No having the boss pop in and needing to find a convenient place to hide a demon. I approve, angel.”

“Yes, it was a _foolproof_ plan,” Aziraphale answered tartly. “Except for my inability to remember my keys. Still, I’m sure you know a locksmith or two…”

“None you’d want to rub elbows with. So… anything can get in or out as long as it’s not doing so via miracle?”

He sighed and nodded, grimacing. “So, how likely is this locksmith of yours to rob me blind once he becomes aware of my existence?”

“I could probably threaten him into leaving you alone, but I might be able to get inside myself.”

“You already tried, remember?” Aziraphale sighed, looking faintly irritated. 

“Well, there’s more than one way to skin a cat,” the demon answered, peering thoughtfully at the door for a moment before turning his attention to the surrounding walls. 

“Crowley, what are you doing?” Aziraphale demanded, expression turning worried. “The walls are protected, as well, and any interference with the wards could bring the whole building down on our heads.”

“I just need a small gap,” Crowley answered, kneeling and poking at a brick with loose-looking mortar. “Oh, this’ll do nicely.” 

“Wh--” he started to demand, the word trailing off into a gasp as the demon started to change shape. “Oh! What a clever idea,” he exclaimed happily as Crowley, now a snake, slithered into the small gap in the brick wall. “Oh, thank you, Crowley.”

A few scales caught painfully against the mortar holding the surrounding bricks in place but Crowley managed to stretch himself a little longer than usual to slim out his profile, the serpentine equivalent of sucking in your stomach to fit into a corset more easily. It was still a tight fit, but he did manage to slither into a space between the outer and inner walls of the shop. From there, it was quite easy to find a small gap to let him slither into the shop proper. 

Frowning to himself, he sniffed the obviously-chewed bit of paneling for a moment before slithering to the door and resuming his human shape, unlocking it to let the waiting angel inside.

“Oh, you’ve injured yourself!” Aziraphale exclaimed, staring up at him with wide eyes and lifting a soft hand to the graze on Crowley’s forehead. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s nothing,” he answered dismissively, shaking his head and glancing back at the tiny gap he’d slithered in through. 

Fortunately, the angel didn’t seem to have noticed it, which was just as well. He’d have driven himself mad with worry for his precious books if he realized that rats had started to take an interest in his shop. After a bit of nastiness in Alexandria a few millennia back, Crowley had sworn a resolution to _never_ allow a book to be damaged within 100 miles of the angel. Letting burrowing, chewing creatures remain in the bookshop was completely out of the question.

“Here, let me heal you,” the angel offered, stepping inside and shutting the door behind himself. 

“It’s just a scratch, angel. No need to waste a miracle.” 

“Are you certain? It’s really the least I can do,” he offered, stepping close and reaching for Crowley’s forehead.

The angel was far too helpful for his own good, offering to heal a minor scrape on a demon’s face despite having overbearing supervisors who had recently chastised him for using too many miracles. It didn’t seem to have occurred to Aziraphale that Upstairs might still be keeping track. Plucking the handkerchief from the angel’s front pocket, he took a step back, holding the cloth to his head with a careless smile. 

“It’s getting late, angel, and I have an appointment with my banker in the morning.” It was a lie but, after all, he _was_ a demon. And, as a demon, he made a mental note to actually visit his banker again soon. Stock speculation was such a lovely human invention! “See you around.”

“Oh. All right,” he answered, sounding a bit put out by Crowley’s rapid retreat. “Well, I’ll see you soon. Thank you again,” he added more brightly.

Crowley grunted an acknowledgement and left the angel in his bookshop, healing his forehead and dabbing away the blood with the handkerchief. He’d have to burn it now, of course. No demon in his right mind left _any_ part of himself just laying around where someone might be able to get their hands on it. He walked to Mayfair, securing the handkerchief safely in his flat to deal with later, then left, changing back into a snake and slithering back towards Soho unseen. If most people had asked, he would have claimed that living so close to the angel was mere coincidence. If someone from Head Office had asked, he would have claimed it made it easier to spy on the angel. As he was clearly about to do.

He had to circle the bookstore a few times before the lights went out downstairs and, presumably, the angel retired upstairs to do whatever it was he did instead of sleeping. Praying, probably. He’d have to sneak up some night and find out, but not tonight. Tonight, he had a mission. Quickly resuming his snake-form, he slithered back into the bookstore via the tiny gaps in the wall. It would have to be fixed before much longer, but first the cause of those holes would have to be addressed. 

The bookstore was almost completely dark, except for a bit of light filtering in from the street lamps outside. Nothing moved, but Crowley could _smell_ the invaders all around him, and had to spend a few moments fighting down an inconvenient set of serpentine instincts. There were behaviors he hadn’t indulged in since the 14th century and he had no intention of getting back into any old habits just because the angel’s bookstore was being invaded by rats.

_You’d best come out now. Don’t make this difficult for yourselves. I just want to talk._

The rats, of course, continued to cower just out of sight. They weren’t trying to flee or attack, either, so they must have known he was no ordinary snake. Flicking out his tongue, he started straight towards what smelled like a dam. Rats were predictable creatures, and the others swarmed to protect the mother-to-be. 

_Just want to talk,_ Crowley repeated, coiling himself into a pile to make himself appear bulkier. _No one has to get hurt here._

Hopefully including himself. Rats had incredibly sharp teeth and a habit of ganging up on threats. An old-looking buck, mangey and covered in battle-scars, poked his head around a pile of books and gave Crowley a searching look.

_You can’t stay here. I'll let you go somewhere else, though. Somewhere that stores food instead of paper. Besides, paper tastes disgusting and there’s no nutrition in it._

The rat patriarch continued to stare at Crowley, who could feel it calculating the odds of driving him off with a coordinated attack. 

_I was hoping I could do this without dropping names, but you guys do_ **_not_ ** _want to upset me. Do you know who I am?_

There were few sounds that a rat and a snake could both make easily with their respective vocal equipment. Crowley had taken on one of those sounds as an alias during the 14th century and he used it now, spitting out a few chirping noises, and feeling pleasantly warm and gratified when every rat in sight actually flinched. 

_I see you people have long memories. Good._

One or two of the younger rats looked dubious, or maybe just willing to try to attack him anyway, perhaps hoping that he’d become less of a threat over the last few centuries. Idiots. He’d have thought that, by now, rats everywhere would have started to revere him as some sort of dark god. Demigod at the very least. Disappointing. 

_Centuries ago, I ate_ **_millions_ ** _of your kind, as a favor to the man whose bookshop you’re trying to infest right now. There’s only one way this ends. Two, if you lot have any kind of survival instinct at all._

The older rats were starting to look decidedly convinced by this line of reasoning, but a few of the young ones were still looking rebellious. 

_Do you still tell your children tales of my exploits? How entire towns and cities would be cleared of rats overnight? How ships left harbor with thousands of rats on board and arrived at their destination empty of anything but humans and one very smug and quite fat snake?_

He managed to seem very enthusiastic at the memories, although he was getting nauseous at the very idea. He’d never been a fan of rodents, especially raw ones, and _only_ watching Aziraphale agonizing over the spread of the Black Death could have convinced him to eat as many as he had during the 14th century. He’d been hopeful that he’d never have to swallow a whole rat again, although it was looking like he might end up having to, as an example to the others. 

Eurg, the things he did for that ridiculous angel…

He snapped forward, coiling himself around the strongest-looking young rat with a lightning-fast motion. It took a bit of effort not to break the thing’s neck, but he did manage, holding the rat firmly and flicking his tongue out in amusement at the terrified chattering of its friends.

_Starting to remember who’s in charge now?_

The rats were all cowering now, and making deferential motions with their trembling bodies. He gave the rat in his coils a squeeze, forcing a shrill cry from it.

_After tonight, I never want to smell another rodent within a block of this building. Not one. Do I make myself clear?_

Oh, he had definitely made himself clear. The rats were already scrambling over each other to find a way out of the shop. Releasing the rat from his coils, he hissed in amusement as he watched the vermin scrambling over each other and towards the wall, several nearly crushing themselves in their attempt to get out of the little hole as quickly as possible. 

_Spread the word, you delicious morsels! I’m_ **_baaaaaack_ ** _…_

He waited until the last of the rats had retreated, then slithered around the store, making sure none of the angel’s precious books had been damaged. Some ledgers and packing cases had certainly seen better days, and quite an impressive quantity of rat droppings needed to be miracled away, but the books themselves were all just fine, fortunately. Which was a relief since it meant he wouldn’t have to spend the next few weeks listening to Aziraphale bemoaning damaged volumes. 

He took a last turn around the shop, making sure there were no other possibly entrances for random vermin to find their way in, then slithered back out again, wedging the loose brick back into place as firmly as he could and making a mental note to get a brickmason to come around soon and patch the hole permanently. 

Heading back towards his flat, he snorted as he noticed more than one group of rats scurrying quickly away from the general vicinity of the bookshop. Word spread fast. For some reason, there was also a cloaked, rat-sized figure carrying a scythe and walking briskly away from the others, shaking its head with the impatient air of one who realizes its been wasting its time.

What the…   
  
Doing his best to push that oddity from his mind, Crowley remembered that he had a progress report due soon, and wondered if he could get away with claiming this as a win for the forces of evil. Something about driving a multigenerational family out of its new abode via threats of mass murder if they or any of their kind ever returned?

No, too off-brand from his usual style, and it might give his superiors ideas about how he should be expected to behave in future. The last thing he needed was Head Office thinking that he’d finally developed the kind of ingrained, enthusiastic nastiness that most other demons had. Better to spin it into a tale about how he’d single-handed shifted long-term property values in the Soho area. It was convoluted enough to believably be one of his ideas, and vague enough that Head Office wouldn’t ask questions for fear of a detailed answer. 

Perfect. He’d saved himself countless hours of having to deal with angelic distress and, into the bargain, committed the kind of ‘evil’ act that he could coast on for weeks before he was expected to lift a hand again. 

Feeling enormously pleased with himself, he headed back towards Mayfair to write up a quick report and then take a well-earned nap.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Despite its reputation later, Soho was actually a pretty affluent and classy district for much of its existence. Poor Aziraphale when it started changing in the 1900s...
> 
> Fun fact #2: Soho and Mayfair are less than a 10 minute walk from each other. 
> 
> Fun speculation: This canNOT be a coincidence. 
> 
> Fun anecdote: as a child I was given a pet rat. Knowing nothing about rats, I named the fat lil fella Zeus. When Zeus gave birth a few weeks later, I naturally named one of the offspring Athena...
> 
> I had to give most of the babies away eventually, but after having a vet check to be sure Athena was actually female, I was allowed to keep her. They were some of the most affectionate pets I've ever had, and quite clever, too <3 <3 <3
> 
> Again, many thanks to Zorianne for the beta work <3 I am starting to love you already, just fyi. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed the fic. Feedback is love.


End file.
